Prongs

This season’s voice says

Mankind can’t go out So, thinking of prongs, that protrude from spheres, stops the weariness

Imperfect prongs in an airbrushed image Coronavirus Made to look pretty Almost wonderful Mankind is fragile It’s obvious now

The madness takes hold

There are no seats left at safety’s table Death’s emptiness grows then strangles our hearts Suspicion defeats well-formed defiance Rapunzel spirits then suddenly wake

Because we need hope All is remembered Prongs, feelings and hurt can’t overcome God He rescues mankind Fear is sure to die See His will survive